"When the sun is up / and the day is new / and I'll have new ideas for you / and you'll have things you'll want to talk about / I will too!"
Those cheerful lyrics have been floating through my brain like a broken record for the last hour since I woke up, confused and mildly headachey, at 2:30 AM this morning. I have no idea why they're there, but they are, and the only way to excorsise them is to write about it.
I think about Heaven and Hell entirely too much, and there is a thought attached to those lyrics for me this lonely morning: what is Fred Roger's version of Heaven like? Undoubtedly, that's where he is; aside from the fact that I believe that one sends him or herself to his own Heaven or Hell, a place of his or her own invention, I simply cannot imagine the idea of Fred "Mr" Rogers in any other place. Not him. No chance.
Me, on the other hand? A week ago, I would have described a place of rest and peace; a farm. Just a farm. Nothing flashy or glorious... just a few dozen country acres and some animals. Quiet. A warm fire and a cold fridge, well stocked with my favorite beers. Maybe a few good books.
But lately, I've been thinking more about Hell than is necessarily healthy, even for me. I've caught myself up in it, and a few nights ago. had a nightmare about a sort of Hell on Earth. Nothing too clear - mostly vague notions of being stalked, of having no place to hide. Wild, insane (but clearly intelligent), unnatural beasts constantly on the prowl, looking to get me and anybody like me. And I was a like a child again... small and defenseless, unable to protect myself.
I remember, in this dream, being soaked in some sort of flammable liquid, and KNOWING a flash of flame was coming, and would surely consume me... but I was unable to stop it from happening. And then I woke up, feeling bound for the lake of fire, which is interesting, because I don't even believe in such a place.
(after several minutes of sitting at my desk, thinking)
What is it I am really so afraid of? Why do I feel I'm destined to be punished?
Those cheerful lyrics have been floating through my brain like a broken record for the last hour since I woke up, confused and mildly headachey, at 2:30 AM this morning. I have no idea why they're there, but they are, and the only way to excorsise them is to write about it.
I think about Heaven and Hell entirely too much, and there is a thought attached to those lyrics for me this lonely morning: what is Fred Roger's version of Heaven like? Undoubtedly, that's where he is; aside from the fact that I believe that one sends him or herself to his own Heaven or Hell, a place of his or her own invention, I simply cannot imagine the idea of Fred "Mr" Rogers in any other place. Not him. No chance.
Me, on the other hand? A week ago, I would have described a place of rest and peace; a farm. Just a farm. Nothing flashy or glorious... just a few dozen country acres and some animals. Quiet. A warm fire and a cold fridge, well stocked with my favorite beers. Maybe a few good books.
But lately, I've been thinking more about Hell than is necessarily healthy, even for me. I've caught myself up in it, and a few nights ago. had a nightmare about a sort of Hell on Earth. Nothing too clear - mostly vague notions of being stalked, of having no place to hide. Wild, insane (but clearly intelligent), unnatural beasts constantly on the prowl, looking to get me and anybody like me. And I was a like a child again... small and defenseless, unable to protect myself.
I remember, in this dream, being soaked in some sort of flammable liquid, and KNOWING a flash of flame was coming, and would surely consume me... but I was unable to stop it from happening. And then I woke up, feeling bound for the lake of fire, which is interesting, because I don't even believe in such a place.
(after several minutes of sitting at my desk, thinking)
What is it I am really so afraid of? Why do I feel I'm destined to be punished?
great profile pic.
: is providence :